


A Pleasure

by ceaselesslyinlove



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: A drunk Laurel is a cute Laurel, Alternate Universe, Drunkenness, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 08:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5283935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceaselesslyinlove/pseuds/ceaselesslyinlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Prompt: “i thought someone was breaking into my apartment but it turns out you just forgot your key and thought this was your place”</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> i’m already in withdrawal from htgawm and i’m also procrastinating…so please enjoy this little flaurel drabble!

Okay, so this not exactly how Frank wanted his evening to go, but it’s interesting nonetheless.

He was only throwing a one of those frozen pizzas in the oven when he heard someone barge into his apartment, the sound of a purse being flung onto the floor.  The neighborhood is a safe one, so he never bothers to lock the door when he’s in, but he momentarily stills before moving quickly to face whatever idiot had just walked into his home.

He rounds the corner to find a drunk woman attempting to remove her heels with a beer bottle.  

“What the hell?”

Her head shoots up to reveal a beautiful face, a face which quickly scowls at him as she looks him over.

“More like who are you and why the fuck are you in my apartment?”

Oh.

“Are you one of Asher’s friends, because I swear to God…”

Her words are slurred, but she tries to stand straight, head held high as she waits for his answer.  She holds the bottle in a tight grip and he holds up one of his hands, knowing exactly what she’s thinking.

“You’re the one who just walked straight into  _my_  apartment.  Do you normally just walk into people’s homes when you’re drunk and upset?”

Her eyes narrow at that, but he sees her reconsider and carefully glance around the room, taking in his guitar in the corner, the photos of his family scattered randomly about the room.  

Without a single apology, she promptly hiccups, brushes past him, and collapses on his couch.

“I must have missed my floor walking up.”

“Why didn’t you take the damn elevator?” He’s getting a little peeved now.  Normally, he would love to have a beautiful girl crash at his place, but he’s hungry and this girl is proving to be a bit of a brat.

She shrugs at that.  “I’m drunk.”

“Clearly,” he bristles and walks back to the kitchen to properly put his food in the oven, setting the timer and then filling a glass of water for the woman who’s probably passing out right now.

He walks back to find she’s taken off her coat and has positioned it as a pillow. Her hands are folded under her head like a child’s.  Un-fucking-believable.  

“Here,” he puts the glass in front of her, almost smirking when she gasps at the sound and her eyes widen in surprise.  “Drink up and then I’m walking you back to your place.”

She sighs loudly, but obeys, taking the water, but instead of taking it down all at once, she sips it.

“I broke up with boyfriend tonight.”

He almost groans in pain.  “Oh my god, don’t…”

“His name was Kan.  He was perfect…but like  _too_  perfect.  He smiled too much, and was always saying the right things at the right times.”

He sits down, accepting defeat.  “So why did you leave him?”

“Because it’s like he’s reading off a damn script or something!” She nearly yells, and throws her head back.  He admires the way her wavy brunette hair floats up behind her head and is instantly annoyed with himself.  

“Plus, all my friends have these amazing boyfriends and girlfriends, and what they told me about love clearly does not match my feelings for Kan.  Like Wes, he’s all over this girl named Rebecca.  She’s potentially the weirdest person I’ve ever met, but he’d do anything for her.  And Connor is with Oliver and they’re just  _soooo_  happy and they just bought a place together….”

She thankfully stops talking to look sadly down into her glass, which she downs after a moment of reflection.  He almost feels bad for his rudeness when she looks up with him with remorse.

“Anyway, I’m sorry I crashed here.  I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”

“You didn’t,” he finds himself saying, standing up and awkwardly looking away from her.  “Do you feel fine enough to walk back now?”

She nods, an adorable pout now marking her face, and she stands up, a little more oriented than she was before.  He grabs her purse and she moves to take it.

“Thanks,” she says, and puts an unsteady hand against his arm for balance.

Frank Delfino doesn’t blush, but he feels his skin break out into goosebumps at the feel of her skin on his.  Clearing his throat, he nods towards the door.

“Alright, let’s get you back home.”

***

She missed her floor by four staircases, which is impressive.  When they finally make it to her door (by elevator this time), he stands there awkwardly as she tries to find her key buried underneath all her purse possessions.  He almost hopes she can’t find it so he can spend more time with her back upstairs.

She finds it though, and let’s him open the door for her.  With her first smile of the night, she smiles up at him and pecks him on the cheek.  

“Again, sorry and thank you for putting up with me,” she walks into her apartment and closes the door.

Well, fuck.

***

She left her coat in his room.

The next afternoon, after work and in a moment when he’s free, he walks down to her door with her coat and knocks, feeling like a schoolboy all of a sudden.

She answers almost immediately, a little tilt of her head when she sees him and studies him.  She’s even more gorgeous than he remembered.

“Ah, the poor man I bemoaned to,” she smirks and leans against the door-frame.

“Left your coat upstairs…though I’m not sure if that was your intention or not.”

She rolls her eyes and reaches out for the coat, only to frown when he pulls it away.

“One condition.  Your name for your coat.”

She raises a brow unimpressed.  “Really?”

“Really.  I’m Frank.  Frank Delfino,” he holds out a hand, fully expecting her to turn it down.

She hesitates for only a moment, taking his hand in a firm handshake.  “Laurel. Laurel Castillo.”

_Laurel._

“It was a pleasure to meet you last night, Laurel.”

She hums, studying him as she takes her coat, and he wonders what she thinks of him.

“Same here, Frank.  I guess I’ll see you around.”

She closes the door with a smirk and Frank realizes he’s fucked.


End file.
